Change At Eclipse
by DauntlessFlame
Summary: RoseClan has she-cats. ThistleClan has toms. This is the way things have been as far back as anyone can remember. Love is just a distraction. But then why does Briarpaw feel differently? If every she-cat before her has been able to give up their brother, why can't she? And why does Duskpaw feel a pull toward a she-cat he hardly knows, yet she has his heart? All is about to change.
1. Chapter 1

_Honesty is bravery and selflessness is peacefulness.  
><em>—A famous RoseClan saying; commonly used in times of despair.

~.~

Tawnyleaf meowed quietly, "Littlefeather, take your son."

The light brown tom picked up the sleeping sandy-gray tom named Duskpaw by his scruff. Tawnyleaf watched with a great sadness as her mate took her son away.

"Take care of him," she whispered after the tom. Littlefeather nodded. Their son was old enough to move to his father's Clan. He would train to be a ThistleClan warrior. His sister Briarpaw would train to be a RoseClan warrior. Her friend, Brightsong was lucky. _She_ had two she-kits: Sunkit and Moonkit. But that was just luck.

She sighed, knowing there was nothing she could do to change fate. She rose from her lone nest and emerged from the nursery. Tawnyleaf padded over to the fresh-kill pile and grabbed a squirrel—her favorite prey—to cure her sorrow. Tawnyleaf looked up as Briarpaw appeared from the apprentice den, yawning. The poor kit had been given a poppy seed in her mouse, so she wouldn't be around to see Duskpaw leave.

"Hello Mother," she called brightly. Briarpaw bounded over to her. The dark brown she-cat glanced around the clearing, flicking her ear. "Where's Duskpaw?"

Tawnyleaf bowed her head in sorrow, avoiding her daughter's persistent gaze. "Briarpaw, the time has come for him to go to ThistleClan," whispered Tawnyleaf. She hated telling the truth, but it was a RoseClan saying. _Honesty is bravery and selflessness is peacefulness. _All the she-cats of RoseClan lived by that code.

Briarpaw was quiet for a few moments. She muttered something indecipherable, then her voice became gasping. "No, no," she growled, her head swiveling toward Tawnyleaf. "No!" Briarpaw shook her head. "How could you, Mother?" the apprentice hissed. "How could you?" The fur along her spine began to rise as anger surged through her.

Tawnyleaf flattened her ears, noticing the attention Briarpaw was causing. Guilt tugged at her heart. "I love you, Briarpaw," Tawnyleaf whispered. "I love you!" she repeated louder, willing her daughter to hear the words she'd so often shared with Duskpaw too. She touched her tail to Briarpaw's shoulder. "You still have me."

The dark brown apprentice let out a sob and her body shook. A fierce cry escaped from her. Abruptly, she sprang away from Tawnyleaf. She charged for the gorse tunnel that led out of camp, but wasn't quick enough.

"Stop!" Poppynose yowled, pinning the struggling young she-cat to the ground.

Briarpaw looked pleadingly at Tawnyleaf with her father's bright green eyes, but she was helpless to do anything about it. She held her daughter's gaze with deep sorrow, hoping that she knew that this was for the best. Toms belonged to be separated from she-cats so they didn't interfere with training. Love was just another thing to hold a warrior back in battle. That's why it is essential that the toms leave at a young age.

Everyone looked up as Blossomstar padded over to them. Briarpaw had already created a crowd and the whispering quieted as RoseClan's leader stepped fourth.

"Departing is always the hardest thing," she murmured apologetically to Tawnyleaf's daughter. The white-furred queen glanced warily at her warriors. "Let her up, please." With reluctance, Poppynose got off and trotted back to the gorse. "Briarpaw," the RoseClan leader purred softly, "You know that this day had to come. You were born a RoseClan kit; it is in our blood to sacrifice what we have to."

The dark brown she-cat curled her lip. "Duskpaw was born a RoseClan kit too! Why does he have to join those fox-hearts?"

Tawnyleaf winced, wishing Briarpaw would hold her tongue. "You are RoseClan because you are a she-cat," she snapped. "He is ThistleClan because he is a tom."

"I don't understand! Why can't he stay here with me? Here with his true kin!" Briarpaw wailed.

"Enough of this!"

Tawnyleaf looked up, watching as Frostleaf's stern gaze landed on her daughter. The white-furred medicine cat waved her tail in annoyance, padding over to Briarpaw.

"You will stop this _right now!"_ the queen hissed. Her eyes darted from Blossomstar back to Briarpaw. "You will stay at camp for a moon, like all the other she-cats with toms as siblings before you have. Learn to like it here in RoseClan, Briarpaw. This is the way things are. Respect that or leave us now."

Silence washed over the apprentice as she stared at her paws. "I'll stay," she whispered, meeting Frostleaf's gaze. "But only for my mother. Not you." Briarpaw turned on tail and vanished into the apprentice den.

Frostleaf turned to her. "You should've prepared your daughter for this, Tawnyleaf!" Frostleaf growled.

"I-I did!"

"Apparently not enough!" the medicine cat spat, her white pelt disappearing through the lichen hanging across her den.

* * *

><p>~.~<p>

Briarpaw felt sick to her stomach. Frostleaf's words still rang in her ears. _This is the way things are. Respect that or leave us now._ She curled up tighter in her nest, wanting to be as far away from this day as possible. She wished she was good at lying to herself. _When you wake, he'll be there. This was just a dream._ No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't convince herself it was a dream. All she could do was rest her head on her paws and hope he'll return.

But it was hard to kindle that hope.

Her older denmate, Snowpaw was murmuring away, trying to console her. "It's okay, Briarpaw. You'll be all right," the white apprentice whispered, touching her tail to her shoulder. "I know that Whitepaw and Graypaw will be fine. So will Duskpaw."

Briarpaw sighed. "I miss him." She glanced at her friend, watching as Snowpaw delicately finished removing the two nests which belonged to Dawnpaw and Larkpaw. They were having their ceremony anytime now. Snowpaw had heard from Heathercloud—Larkpaw's mentor—that they would both become warriors today.

"Well, you might be able to see him at the Gathering," Snowpaw purred, gazing down at her. She twitched her whiskers. "I doubt we'll be allowed at the next Gathering, but maybe the one after that." She sighed thoughtfully. "Do you want to know what ThistleClan camp is like?"

Briarpaw perked her ears, trying not to look too eager. "Describe it."

The white apprentice began, "I don't know this firsthand, but my mother has been there once—it was to escort Frostleaf; it was for some reason to see Thornstar, if I remember right." She shook her head. "Anyways, it has a bramble barrier as an entrance. The camp is in a valley and surrounded by a thick forest. Their dens are close together, built with brambles and ferns. Their camp has no nursery, but two warrior dens. My mother only knows a few toms . . . Goosewing—my father, and Hawkstalker—your father's brother . . ."

She curled her lip when Snowpaw mentioned Hawkstalker. Tawnyleaf said he looked like Duskpaw. Briarpaw shifted in her nest so that her front legs were stretched out before her. She dug her claws into the soft dirt in anger, imagining it was Frostleaf's fur. Abruptly, Blossomstar's caterwaul echoed from across the clearing. "Snowpaw, listen . . ." Briarpaw quieted her friend. Snowpaw stopped babbling and listened.

"Let all she-cats sweet enough to be flowers gather here around Rosebush Rock!"

Briarpaw rose from her nest and tailed Snowpaw out of the den. Dawnpaw, Larkpaw, and their mentors had already gathered, anxiously waiting below Rosebush Rock. Hailmask sat proudly behind them, ready to watch her daughters become warriors. Briarpaw saw her mother settling down beside Flowerwish. She winced at the sight of her mentor, who had seen the dilemma.

Keeping her tail high, she avoided her Clanmates' gazes and kept close to Snowpaw. They sat near the back of the Clan, more towards the nursery, where Brightsong was peeking out.

"We have gathered here to make two new warriors of RoseClan. Heathercloud and Poppynose proudly shared with me Dawnpaw and Larkpaw are ready to become true RoseClan warriors. I, Blossomstar, leader of RoseClan call upon our warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and in their turn I commend them warriors. Dawnpaw and Larkpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, protect, and defend RoseClan even at the cost of your lives?"

The cream-furred apprentices yowled, "I do!" in unison.

"Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior names. Dawnpaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Dawnsong. StarClan honors your grace and intelligence and we welcome you as a full warrior of RoseClan!" Blossomstar announced, pride filling her voice.

"Dawnsong, Dawnsong!" the RoseClan she-cats cheered. Briarpaw's eyes found Frostleaf. The medicine cat was looking satisfyingly at the new warrior.

The white-furred leader continued: "Larkpaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Larkfeather. StarClan honors your agile skills and compassion and we welcome you as a full warrior of RoseClan!"

"Larkfeather, Larkfeather!" RoseClan called the new warrior by her new name.

"Tonight, Dawnsong and Larkfeather shall sit their proper vigil as we rest," Blossomstar finished, whisking her tail. She gave a short nod to Roseshade and the meeting was over.

Briarpaw glanced to her right and saw that Snowpaw was already trailing toward Dawnsong and Larkfeather. She decided she'd go visit Sunkit and Moonkit, the newest addition to RoseClan.

A milk-scent filled her nose as she squeezed inside. Memories flooded her mind, but she held them back, knowing this was not the place.

"Hello, Briarpaw," Brightsong greeted her, moving to settle in back in her nest. "Have you come to meet my darlings?" She gently nosed her daughters.

"Who are you?" the silver-and-white she-kit squeaked, her bright blue eyes gazing up at her.

She let out a purr. "I'm Briarpaw."

"_I'm _Moonkit," the she-kit piped. She pointed with her nose at the golden kit. "That's Sunkit."

The other kit let out a big yawn. Brightsong gestured for her to leave them be.

"Hello, Briarpaw!"

She looked up to see her old nursery friend, Mosskit. The dark brown tabby kit's eyes were round with excitement. The sight of her former denmate brought back a rush of memories, but she fought back the anger that was surfacing. Mosskit's sisters, Swiftkit and Hazelkit were sleeping against their mother, Robincloud. "Where's Redkit?" she asked her young friend.

"Here!" the reddish brown kit piped, his voice muffled.

Briarpaw turned to see the tom carrying a mouse in his jaws.

"Yummy!" Mosskit licked her chops as Redkit dropped the prey at her paws. The two littermates tore into the flesh, not wasting a second.

"I'll see you later, Mosskit!" she called quietly, squeezing out of the tightly enclosed nursery. She felt better, knowing there was always someone she could count on.

"Blossomstar would like to speak with you." Roseshade's voice made Briarpaw jump. The deputy eyed her warily.

She nodded to the dark red she-cat and bounded over to Blossomstar's den. It was an ancient badger set, though the scent has vanished long before RoseClan's time. Paw prints of many cats were pressed into the clay.

The white leader's lithe structure was hardly visible in the paling moonlight. Blossomstar's blue eyes gleamed when she looked up to meet Briarpaw's gaze.

"You wanted me?"

Blossomstar rose to her paws, padding nearer the apprentice. She flicked her ear, her eyes clouded with emotion. She sat back on her haunches. "You know, when my brothers Toadfur and Darkthunder left it felt like the end of the world, but my mother told me it was for the best." Her gaze flickered with sadness. She shook her head, rising to her paws, the sorrow vanishing from her eyes. "But I believed her and still do. If we stopped having ThistleClan's kits we'd have to entrust filthy _rogues_ to be our mates." She curled her lip in disgust. "It is better that there isn't interference with training and that there isn't love." She paused, studying Briarpaw's reaction. "That's why we have a Clan, my dear. RoseClan was formed to keep peace at bay. _Selflessness is peacefulness. _We give up our toms to ThistleClan so that we can have stronger warriors. It is StarClan's will when a tom is born. We don't decide that."

Silence fell as Blossomstar retreated to her clearing. Fierceness still glimmered in her blue eyes. The white leader turned to Briarpaw. "Remember, sweet darling, you are RoseClan. Be careful what you do, because leaf-bare's frost is always the worst."


	2. Chapter 2

_Claws and fangs may leave lasting scars,  
>Love and lust may leave non-beating hearts<br>Blood and sickness may leave unseen bruises,  
>Play it safe and no one loses<br>_—RoseClan "Nursery Rhyme"

~.~

Duskpaw sprang from the nest in surprise. _Where am I? _The overwhelming odor hit his scent glances and he realized: _ThistleClan. _His last memories were blurred from drowsiness. He vaguely recalled Tawnyleaf whispering something of goodbye. He took in his surroundings, trying to find out why he was alone. The den was small, like that of a medicine cat's but it gave no hint of herbs. Light seeped through a tiny opening. He padded to it, disturbing fallen dust as he whisked his tail behind him. He gave the hole a curious sniff, realizing he could almost fit through the gap.

"You've awakened."

The sandy-gray tom's fur rose on his spine as he whipped around. Standing in a broader opening of the den, there was another cat. The tom was small, with light brown fur. "Who are you?" Duskpaw growled. "Where are Tawnyleaf and Briarpaw?"

Anger flashed in the warrior's eyes as he padded toward him. "Your mother and sister can no longer be with you," he muttered. "You are a ThistleClan apprentice now. I am Littlefeather: your father."

Duskpaw let out a hiss. "Mother said that Briarpaw would say good-bye to me when I had to go! And she didn't!" He lashed his tail, cursing under his breath. _Of course there were no goodbyes! I was asleep when he stole me!_

Littlefeather sighed. "One day, Duskpaw, you will thank me. But while you _could_ spend your time moping about your sister and mother, it would be more productive if you chose otherwise. There's someone you should meet."

A sandy-gray tom that looked much like Duskpaw loomed in the den's opening. He was very large in physique, contrasting to the smallness of Duskpaw's father. The tom was very well composed, his fur sleek and pelt clean. He had amber eyes that held an unspoken challenge in them, almost as if they were daring him to try and mope. Duskpaw straightened, suddenly fearing the thought of this cat thinking him weak. Duskpaw _would not_ mope.

"My brother, Hawkstalker, has been taken to the task of being your mentor," Littlefeather meowed, sounding pleased. "He will train you to be a fine ThistleClan warrior. You should be proud to know that he is the deputy."

Duskpaw recoiled at this fact, knowing that was all the harder things were going to be for him to adjust. When Hawkstalker saw him take a step back, his fierce amber gaze burned harder at him. He obviously was offended by Duskpaw's resentment.

"I'll have you know I trained two strong apprentices before you," Hawkstalker announced, his light tone not matching the dark look he was casting. "They are each equal in fearlessness. It would be dishonorable if you would not turn out the same."

Anyone could feel the challenge behind his uncle's words.

In that tense moment, a black tom pushed past Hawkstalker into the den. He had a wiry figure. His muzzle was tipped with the silver of old age and his yellow eyes heavy with sleep. His scent was that of herbs, so he was assumed to be the medicine cat.

"That's Crowshade," Littlefeather whispered. "Our healer."

As Crowshade approached him, Duskpaw thought about the fact that this cat would be the one to heal his wounds from now on. Not Frostleaf. He couldn't decide if that was good or not.

"Have the RoseClan cats been treating you good?" Crowshade asked spitefully. "StarClan knows what torture you might've been through."

Duskpaw considered. "They have. Why wouldn't they?"

"RoseClan have been known to beat up young apprentices when they send them over to us. It's _our_ job to teach them a lesson afterwards." Crowshade looked him over for wounds, letting out a hiss when he found one. "You have a recent tear in your ear, young one." After a moment he added, "_She-cats_!" he said the word with pure hatred.

"Excuse his manners, Duskpaw," Littlefeather muttered. "He has never been one to appreciate what RoseClan does for us." He turned, speaking to Crowshade. "You've never even met them. All because you were a rogue when you joined, that doesn't mean you should be any less grateful for the strong toms they send us."

Crowshade twitched his whiskers. "_Strong toms_, that's just what they send us. Yet those weaklings can't even bring the kits to us themselves!"

Littlefeather flicked his tail-tip, annoyed.

Crowshade didn't seem to notice his Clanmate's frustration, only padded over toward where Hawkstalker still loomed. He peered out of the den, suddenly yowling for someone else. "Nightstalker! I need cobweb and marigold!" Crowshade turned and moved back over by Duskpaw, the impatience he was feeling written on his face.

It was then when Duskpaw saw Nightstalker for the first time. A very small dark gray tom ran into the den with cobwebs and marigold, depositing them next to Crowshade. "Anything else you want?"

Crowshade let out a haughty breath. "Of course not. Duskpaw was one of the softies that got well cared for." He paused. "At least, so he says."

Nightstalker nodded, turning on tail out of the den.

As Crowshade applied the marigold to his ear, Duskpaw thought about what he had said. He remembered that Frostleaf always glared at him and gave him a scowl when he needed treating. Roseshade bared her teeth at him if he got too close. Tawnyleaf, Brightsong, and Blossomstar and a few others had treated him well. But Briarpaw always got the adoring crowd. Everyone in RoseClan had treated her like Clan leader when she was born along with him. Duskpaw on the other hand got all the glares. He shivered and turned his attention back to the old medicine cat.

"Be careful!" Duskpaw warned. His ear stung where the medicine cat had applied the marigold.

"Hold still!" Crowshade snapped. "I warned you it may sting! You don't want infection, do you?"

Duskpaw shook his head.

"I said 'hold still'!" Crowshade growled, dabbing cobweb on his ear. When he finished, the stinging was still there and Crowshade still wasn't pleased.

There was yet another tom entering the den, leading to the point where Duskpaw considered it _crowded_. The tom was a sleek black figure with deep-set yellow eyes. He was slim, but muscled like Hawkstalker. An unfriendly snarl was on his face hinted to Duskpaw the startling fact that this was one of his Clanmates now.

"There is no room for RoseClan softies _here_!" the tom purred, his mock kindness as cold as ice. "I don't see why Thornstar doesn't make his _own _Clan."

Littlefeather curled his lip. "That would involve getting _rogues_ to join our Clan."

Crowshade and the black tom cast him an evil look.

"There is nothing wrong with my family!" the tom hissed. "I am a good as warrior as you. Even the softie over here could see that."

Duskpaw _could_ see that. The tom must've been a rogue, but that didn't explain much about Crowshade unless . . .

"Are you brothers?" he asked.

Crowshade cast Duskpaw the coldest of glares, assuring him that he'd hit a nerve.

"Get away, Shadowfoot!" Hawkstalker took a step closer to the black tom. "You have no business here!"

"I have plenty of business here!" Shadowfoot purred, his voice full of spite. "_Someone_ has to teach the softie to be a true ThistleClan warrior!"

There was a pure moment of silence as the tensions rose higher, so tight they were about to snap.

A new scent drifted to Duskpaw's nose. _She-cat._ When she spoke, her young voice reminded him of Briarpaw. "Leave them alone," she mewed simply. As the she-cat emerged into view, Duskpaw saw that she wasn't much younger than himself. She had stark white fur and lively green eyes.

Shadowfoot abruptly snapped his attention to the she-cat. The hatred that had been on his face was a mere memory; it was replaced with concern. "Cloud, why are you away from your mother?" he demanded.

Cloud shrugged. "I just wanted to see you."

Shadowfoot shook his head. "You never learn, do you, Cloudy?"

The little white kit let out a purr. Her green eyes sparkled as she dashed over to Shadowfoot, rubbing against him. Duskpaw figured Shadowfoot must be her father.

"Let's go!" Cloud piped. "I want to play Attack!_"_

Shadowfoot sighed, making sure to cast every one of them a glare before following his daughter out.

Hawkstalker let out a hiss, moving to stand in front of the opening, keeping any other cat from entering—or leaving.

Crowshade snorted. "And to think he's _my_ brother! Falling for a loner and having kits with her!"

"Is Cloud his daughter?" Duskpaw asked, just wanting to make sure that his assumption was correct.

Crowshade nodded. "My brother has always had a soft heart for Misty. Cloud is his first daughter. He'd never send her to RoseClan no matter how much they'd accept her. He has had five sons in two different litters. One of his sons ran off to be a rogue. And the other two are good ThistleClan warriors: Goosewing and Blackfang."

Duskpaw felt better knowing that Cloud was part of his Clan. She was pretty and she reminded him of Briarpaw.

The medicine cat pushed past Hawkstalker, heading out of the den.

"You probably know Goosewing's kits: Whitepaw and Graypaw, right?" Littlefeather asked.

He _did_ remember them; they were Snowpaw's brothers. Duskpaw nodded, suddenly itching to meet up with his old friends. They'd left just a moon before him. He wondered what they looked like now—has ThistleClan changed them that much? "When will I be with the other apprentices?"

"Tomorrow," Littlefeather assured him. "It is part of the initiation that apprentices have their first day to themselves aside from their mentor, father, and medicine cat checking in on them. Shadowfoot and Cloud broke a very important rule today. We never want to exhaust the newbie with names or try to force them to accept ThistleClan right away. Hawkstalker and I will be leaving, only to return to bring you fresh-kill. By morning, you will have time to think things through and decide if you are ready to begin training."

Duskpaw nodded, ready for a day to himself. He didn't have to worry about facing his new Clanmates today.

"I'll see you later," Hawkstalker meowed as he turned out the den. Littlefeather cast him a cautious glance before following his brother.

Duskpaw sighed, wishing that in the morning he would wake up and be back with his mother and sister; back where he belonged.


	3. Chapter 3

_Love your sisters. Beware of your brothers.  
>—<em>Rosestar, first leader of RoseClan

~.~

Heathercloud had moved into the nursery not long after her apprentice, Larkfeather, had become a warrior. Roseshade had finally made her stop patrolling for she was nearing her due date.

It was lucky she wasn't out in the forest at this time.

Brightsong feared for Heathercloud, a fear that was common for every queen laboring. She herself had been blessed beautiful daughters, Sunkit and Moonkit. But Heathercloud had to face the chance that she might have a son.

"Calm down, Heathercloud," Brightsong murmured softly. "Think about the wonderful six moons you'll have. You'll have six moons to cherish no matter who they'll be." But that wasn't exactly true for herself. Brightsong had given birth to _three_ kits, one of them a tom, but he was quickly forgotten. Blazekit had died overnight. The memory made her heart clench. She still had had to give him up — to StarClan.

"I'll never have kits again," Heathercloud hissed. She shot a glance at Brightsong, her gaze dark with anger. "Not for as long as I live." The coldness in her tone brought a chill down Brightsong's spine. She looked down at her daughters. _Would I go through the fear again?_ Watching them sleep so peacefully, so innocently, it broke her heart. Blazekit should be with them, even though he would have eventually gone away. _Yes, I would_, she decided. Anything was worth having a family.

Mouseheart, Frostleaf's apprentice, emerged into the nursery, carrying herbs in her jaws. Brightsong picked out raspberry leaves and borage. The scents were familiar. It reminded her of her own fear, the fear of having a son. But it wasn't so much having a son that was the fear. It was the fear of having to give him up.

"Are you ready?" Mouseheart asked, crouching in front of Heathercloud's nest. It was a question moons too late. It was one that should've been asked before Heathercloud had gotten pregnant — before it had even been a possibility.

Heathercloud didn't reply.

A tense silence hung in the air; the main sound was Heathercloud's heavy breathing. All too quickly that silence ended. Heathercloud let out a fierce wail as a ripple shook her body.

Immediately Sunkit and Moonkit woke. "Hush, my dears," Brightsong murmured. "Let's go outside."

Moonkit let out a squeal of delight and darted out, closely followed by her sister. Brightsong glanced nervously at Heathercloud before heading out after her daughters.

The sudden chill in the air took her by surprise. A light breeze brushed her fur, sending a shiver down her spine. She cringed as Heathercloud's shriek came from the nursery. Brightsong looked over at her kits, both dashing off toward the elders' den. They loved hearing about Petalheart's stories. Brightsong wished she could be a kit again, oblivious to the pains of the real world. Inside RoseClan camp, everything was perfect, but _outside_, where many unknown dangers lurked beyond the border, things weren't so safe. The Rosestar tale always said that the former three Clans—IceClan, AshClan, and CloudClan—had to ban together to keep the horrid evils of the world out. But when three Clans try to merge, obviously things don't end well. It was decided that love was just a distraction. Good warriors needed to focus on training.

And so RoseClan and ThistleClan were born. The great leaders had decreed that the toms and she-cats would _forever be separate, but united against the greater evil_.

There was something about that story that always broke Brightsong's heart. After hearing the ancestral tale so many times in so many variations, it became quite apparent that Rosestar and Thistlestar were in love. But that small detail could only be noticed if you really _felt_ the story.

~.~

After Mouseheart said the coast was clear, Brightsong headed into the nursery to see how Heathercloud was doing. She held her breath as she emerged inside, praying that Heathercloud was blessed with she-kits. Four tiny bodies were lying next to the exhausted queen. Brightsong instantly knew that at least one of them was a tom from Heathercloud's irritable flick of her tail.

"Are you okay, Heathercloud?" Brightsong asked softly, trying not to agitate her further.

The queen let out a huff. "Three of them, Brightsong," she whispered, her eyes closed in frustration. "Just little Sweetkit gets to stay."

"At least they'll grow into big, strong warriors."

"Of ThistleClan!" Heathercloud spat. "We should just tell them they were all she-cats and keep them here!"

Brightsong padded closed to her friend and gave her head a lick. "It's okay. Just think that one day, they might have kits, and one of your _grandkits_ may be a she-kit."

Heathercloud let out a whimper. "Please don't let him take them, Brightsong!"

She wished she could make that promise.

But she couldn't do a thing.

* * *

><p>Hollowstep felt an eerie giddiness flow through him as the very off-limits white she-cat sauntered into camp. When RoseClan's beautiful medicine cat sought him out, he felt his heart fluttering nervously. She had lovely ice-blue eyes, but they hit him like stones when her gaze met his. Hollowstep immediately felt ashamed for his foolish swooning. He had a mate, and she was Heathercloud. Even though Heathercloud wasn't nearly as striking as Frostleaf, Hollowstep had found himself very at ease around her. Heathercloud's long, gray fur made her look more elegant, whereas Frostleaf was distinct with her stark-white pelt.<p>

"Heathercloud has kitted," Frostleaf announced sharply. Those words coming from her felt very strange. He felt like he should have already known this. He'd always thought that there was some odd connect with him and his mate that he'd know when something was hurting her. But obviously that was a false belief. He had sensed nothing.

The unkind medicine cat started heading out of ThistleClan camp. She cast a glance over her shoulder, beckoning him with her tail. Hollowstep stayed a few steps behind her, even though he knew the way better than she would.

Together, in the kind of silence that felt purposeful, they headed off to the RoseClan camp. The breeze carried the distinct scent of a certain she-cat... Immediately, Hollowstep knew that Shadowfoot's daughter was following. He refused to call her out on it, though, knowing fair well that Frostleaf would be suspicious of a she-cat in ThistleClan. If Frostleaf found out and complained to Thornstar about it, StarClan knew Shadowfoot would be angrier than a nest of agitated hornets.

Hollowstep knew they passed the border when the thick scent of roses and wildflowers hit him so fast he sneezed. As they trekked through the extremely unfamiliar forest of RoseClan, Hollowstep wondered if Cloud was still following. He hoped she wasn't. He didn't quite trust all of these she-cats. Crowshade once said that too many she-cats together are never a good thing.

As soon as Hollowstep set a paw through the gorse tunnel, everything in RoseClan camp came to a slamming halt. It was as if time had frozen – and their gazes, too. Every pair of eyes he met was filled with coldness. He hadn't been here since he was a kit, and even so, his memories were vague. The only thing he could pinpoint from memory alone would be the nursery. He remembered his mother, Fawnspots, and his sister, Daisykit, who had died from greencough. All the other faces were strangers. During Gatherings, only if a tom was lucky could he glimpse a she-cat under the moonlight.

Frostleaf cleared her throat, causing all the she-cats to look away nervously. Hollowstep's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn't _ever_ been around this many she-cats. His eyes wanted to trace over every feature of them, from their fur to their eyes, to the way they studied him in return. But he couldn't just stand their gawking. He needed to see Heathercloud.

"I... I... Where is Heathercloud?" Hollowstep asked. He already knew the answer, but he felt the need to break the ice. It didn't work. Now every she-cat was looking at him as if he were stupid. But they didn't know what it was like to return to a camp you haven't lived in since kithood.

"She's in here!" a she-cat's high voice called lightly from the bramble den, which he knew was the nursery. Hollowstep glanced at Frostleaf, looking for further instruction, but she offered none. She stalked off into her own den that that a lichen hanging over the entrance. Feeling very alone, he headed into the nursery. He could practically feel each of the she-cats holding their breath as he entered their most sacred den.

Hollowstep hadn't known what to expect.

Heathercloud looked flat-out exhausted in her nest as four kits snuggled next to her belly. She hardly looked up at his presence. The four kits were beautiful – one of them even resembled him: it was a light brown tabby. The others were a light gray tabby kit, a small cream-colored kit, and a gray kit. The cream-colored kit reminded him faintly of his sister.

"Have you named them?" he asked softly, recalling what Littlefeather had told him. _Let them pick out the names. Be gentle. Don't forget that your sons are under their care for the next six moons. Don't get attached to the daughters. _

His mate sighed deeply. "There are three toms: Shrewkit," – she nosed the light brown tabby – "Smallkit," – the cream-colored kit – "and Stormkit." The other one was the gray kit.

"What about her?" Hollowstep whispered, gazing at his daughter with a sad admiration. He would never know her, not truly, but she would still grow in grace. One day, she would probably become a mother herself. _Don't get attatched to the daughters_, Littlefeather's words rang in his ears. Hollowstep snapped his gaze back up to Heathercloud's. Her gloomy yellow eyes did nothing to brighten his mood.

Heathercloud gave the she-kit's head a lick. "Her name is Sweetkit." With her voice barely a whisper, she added, "_You will never take her from me."_


End file.
